


Speak Freely

by sinagtala (strikinglight)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Dork!Levi, F/M, Feelings, Generally being unprofessional, GiganticFlirt!Petra, canoodling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:57:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4309614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strikinglight/pseuds/sinagtala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The human mouth is full of germs, Petra."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Freely

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: For [this meme](http://striking-light.tumblr.com/post/123529747875/send-me-a-ship-and-one-of-these-and-ill-write-a), prompt #16: "things you said with no space between us." Per the request of @raceshadowsinthemoonlight on Tumblr. Opening dialogue unashamedly yoinked from [this gem of a video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXyp6cE9cg8), so special thanks are due Caitlin Glass and Matthew Mercer for making all our giggly dreams come true.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?"

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

A sigh. "Permission granted, Petra." He blinks at her; an errant strand of her hair is poking him in the eye and he can't exactly get a good view of her face from down here, but he hopes she can at least hear the disdain. "Although I don't understand the point of asking so formally, given our current conditions."

She has the good grace not to laugh as she shifts a little where she lies, inching herself down his body so she can fold her arms against his chest, pillow her chin on them to get a good look at his face. "I wanted to ask you a question."

"So ask," he says. He still sounds faintly irritated, but his fingers have come up seemingly of their own accord, drawing light, lazy circles into her back. She didn't think he'd be the type with wandering hands, but this feels as precise and deliberate as the unusual backward stroke of his blade, and she hums a little, arching into the touch.

"Have you ever kissed anyone before?"

His hand drops. She almost regrets it, but the way he's turned his face away from her so his expression is obscured half by his hair and half by the blankets, now in an uncharacteristic state of disarray, is too precious for words.

"You," he finally answers. "Many times in the last fifteen or twenty minutes. I'm sorry I can't give you a more exact figure, but you have to understand I was kind of occupied."

"I'm sure." She is fiddling now with the buttons of his shirt–or what remain of them, anyway. The upper two have rolled beneath the bed; unfortunate casualties, but nothing her A-grade needlework won't fix, later. "Before that?"

"Does it matter?"

"Not really," she admits, burying her nose in the crook of his neck in order to avoid embarrassing him with her smile. She can't tell whether he's craning his head upward in encouragement, or to further hide his face, but she'll take it. "I just wanted to know."

"Well, now you do." His hands are wandering again–no, exploring. Deliberately. Making an expedition, if you will, though he is infinitely more careful with the buttons of her shirt than she was with his just a minute ago. "… How can you tell?"

"Mm. The first time, you did go stiff as a corpse." Her lips are at his jawline, feather-light, ghosting. His skin is strangely warm for someone with such an icy disposition.

"The human mouth is full of germs, Petra."

"I brushed my teeth less than an hour ago, I'll have you know. And the second one, too much tongue."

"Your tongue, definitely." His arm wraps around her waist, pulls her back up so their foreheads press together. There is an unmistakable flush across his face and neck–possibly embarrassment, possibly something else entirely. "I felt it in the back of my throat. And the third time?"

"You bit me the third time."

"Well, sorry," he mumbles, right up against her lips. He can't pull her any closer than he already has, but any iota of space between them at this point is too far. "You must think I'm a terrible disappointment."

"That's okay, captain." There's her smile again; he can feel it on his skin, and while he dearly loves to talk to her, loves it even more when she smiles, there are many more enjoyable things he can now imagine her doing with that mouth. "We have lots of time to practice."


End file.
